Wretched Hives of Scum and Villainy, part VI

For Part V of Wretched Hives of Scum and Villainy, click here.

One of the casinos that I play at in the Reno area has a tropical rainforest theme. Now, I'm used to seeing all sorts of garish decor around casinos, but this one is pretty bad even by casino standards.

They have a "Storm Bar" or something which is supposed to remind people of rainforest storms. Every half hour or so, thunder plays over the loudspeakers, the lights around the bar flash, and water comes pouring down into a large(maybe 10' by 20'), flat rectangular pool a few inches deep. Unfortunately, the water nozzles are all off of a single long pipe running the length of the pool, suspended seven feet above. This makes the entire array look like a giant stadium-style urinal, which I'm sure is the kind of image that encourage people to order expensive fruity drinks.

Far more annoying, however, is the presence of a supposed "bird of paradise" that zooms around the casino regularly. This mechanical contraption(which looks more like a badly painted flying chicken) is suspended from a rail track on the ceiling and emits ear-piercing squawks. The bird also drops chips and cash every so often, giving the impression that the bird is shitting money. I put in play only because it has a pretty good comps and cashback deal, but after a couple hours of listening to that infernal machine, I wanted to ask the casino staff whether I could spend some comps for the use of a 12-gauge shotgun and a box of shells. Blowing that thing out of the sky would've been as good as hitting four of a kind.

Wretched Hives of Scum and Villainy, part 5. AKA, I drive them crazy(ooh! ooh!), like no one else.

For Part 4 of Wretched Hives of Scum and Villainy, click here.

My housing situation got all sorts of screwed up this summer, since the house I lived in was breaking up due to 5 out of the 7 occupants moving in with significant others. I found a place for this upcoming year, but the problem was that my old lease ended 8/31, but the new place wouldn't be ready for movein until 9/23. Out of the people who offered crash space, only three households didn't have furry pets- and I'm really allergic to furry animals. I didn't want to stay a week at each place- talk about an easy way to get every one of my friends annoyed with me. I figure for pretty much anybody, three days is enough to get one's hosts mildly annoyed.

The obvious solution, then, was to fly to Reno(tickets essentially paid for by casinos) to stay for free at the resorts for 3 weeks. So I'm back in the Biggest Shitty Little City in the World for a bit, playing some video poker, hanging out with Kyle, and trying to put up with the kind of tourist who comes to Nevada to die.

When taking advantage of a small casino, which has very few machines, I have to put up with whatever hoser sits down next to me when I'm at the advantage machine. However, when at a large casino playing video poker, I didn't want anyone next to me so I could surreptitiously refer to a strategy cheatsheet every so often on some of the more counterintuitive games(like Double Double Bonus, see previous WHOSAV installments). Plus some of the other people in the high-limit section were chain smokers. I hate smoke.

It therefore became necessary for me to find some way to discourage people from sitting next to, or even near, the machine that I was playing- and spreading stuff around like a snack and a water bottle wouldn't do it.

The solution, as it turns out, was for me to start singing.

Now, I am at best an awful singer. At worst, I probably make William Hung sound professional. In fact, I often don't sing along to music because the sound of my own voice tends to disrupt my enjoyment of the music. And given that the casino playlists slant heavily towards the 80s, there is plenty to enjoy.

After a few minutes of me singing The Logical Song, the two other people nearby found other video poker machines to play. By the time the next song- American Pie- started, someone else had come into high-limit slots...and promptly veered away from where I was playing. Even when a preannounced casino ad came over the intercom, breaking up the music, I continued singing. It is testament to how many Nerd Camp dances I've been to that when the ad ended, I was still perfectly chronologically synced.

Even after I stopped singing, the fear of me starting up again seems to have kept people away. In Your Eyes came on about half an hour later. I couldn't stop cracking up though- I kept remembering some old cow orkers of mine, Logan and Christopher, singing "in your thighs" at the chorus.

Speaking of cracking up, Roger needs to post the LOLcat he made of the Peppermill, the World's Gayest Casino.

[Ed. - Ask and ye shall receive.]


For Part 6 of Wretched Hives of Scum and Villainy, click here.

Wretched Hives of Scum and Villainy, part 4

For Part 3 of Wretched Hives of Scum and Villainy, click here.

Last night, I was the only person in the high-limit slots section of the casino resort I'm staying at. I overheard a pair of employees talking quietly at the far entrance to the high-limit area.

"Is that kid supposed to be in here?"
"I dunno, but he just put a shitload of money into that machine."


For the first time in my life, I'm part of the target demographic, the one that gets all the privileges. This is the complete opposite of college admissions, where I am in what's probably the most fucked-over demographic. It's about time us paintbrush-heads got some love.

Big casinos love young Asian males. Said demographic is usually associated with large disposable income, an addiction to gambling, and a willingness to make all sorts of stupid bets.

I started play at the resort on Sunday night. By last night, I had already qualified for the top tier(out of 4) of their Player's Club. This led to the following conversation:

Kyle: You qualify for airport limo service. You should get that next time.
Me: But seeing how I'd have to rent a car anyways, it means I'd have to go right back.
Kyle: Oh. Well, you should do it anyways.
Me: Hmmm. I'd have to dress for the part.

At this point, Kyle reacts along the lines of "Why the fuck would you want to be dressy, etc."

Me: No, no, you don't understand. It means I have to wear the rattiest clothes I have.
Kyle: *LOL*
Me: Dude, it's me we're talking about here. Wtf were you thinking?

For Part 5 of Wretched Hives of Scum and Villainy, click here.

Wretched Hives of Scum and Villainy, part 2.

For Part 1 of Wretched Hives of Scum and Villainy, go here.

Nevada can be an interesting place for the naive. When Kyle's parents visited, they drove around and did the touristy things. Upon passing a sign for the Moonlite Bunny Ranch, Kyle's mom exclaimed "Oh, how cute! They raise bunnies!"

"Uhhh, no mom. That's a brothel."

I would like to note that we did not visit any brothels, so the peanut gallery can STFU now.

On Thursday, Kyle and I went in to Reno to run some errands. We ended up being comped the buffet at the Peppermill, which is the gayest casino(and by extension the gayest building interior) I've ever seen. You're greeted by purple and rainbow carpets once you get into the parking lot lobby. Further in, there's neon purple and rainbow everywhere. It's a better epilepsy inducer than Pokemon ever was.

The buffet itself was interesting mostly for its variety- sections for carveries, salads, Mexican, Asian, and dessert. The prime rib was nothing to write home about(why do people insist on cooking prime rib to medium well? Blasphemy.), and the salads were okay, but the thing that blew my mind was the wonton soup. The wontons themselves weren't bad- actual pork, green onion, etc. However, the soup was otherwise identical to the chicken noodle soup over in the next tureen, sans noodles.

The dessert section was interesting in that a lot of desserts _looked_ good but really weren't. The only thing that was actually good were the visually unimpressive chocolate chip cookies. I got this little circular cheesecake thing which tasted pretty bad. So I told Kyle that hey, maybe I could make it look like I ate more of it by breaking it up into pieces. This did not have the intended effect, as the cheesecake somehow expanded in volume when I left a wreckage of cheesecake smear all over my plates. Oh well.

Unfortunately, it is still pretty cold(comparatively) around here. Otherwise, Kyle and I would go golfing. This has the potential to be a real disaster, as neither of us have ever golfed before. I've hit some balls and been to a driving range, but Kyle hasn't even swung a club before. The plan was to go see if we can get maybe 6 holes in within the time it usually takes people to get 18. And not to flip the golf cart.

For Part 3 of Wretched Hives of Scum and Villainy, click here.

Wretched Hives of Scum and Villainy, part 1

So, a few days ago, I flew out to Nevada to meet up with my old roommate Kyle. Kyle, the guy who got me into professional gambling(though he insists it was the other way around, which eventually points the finger back at Roger), found a casino with really exploitable video poker and slots. So exploitable that he was willing to pay me to fly out and play on his money for a percentage of the take.

My first thought upon landing in Reno was "dude, this place is fucked up." It was probably the presence of the slots zombies within 30 feet of the gate. We then drove through more of downtown Reno before getting out on the freeways to get to his house in Sparks.. Prostitution is legal outside the city limits in Nevada. This appears to have had a deterimental effect on the quality of the actual street talent inside. You see these 50-year old women attempting to hide their wrinkles with enough makeup to put an ice skater to shame, wearing tight clothing which makes it painfully obvious that whatever perked 30 years ago just don't got it anymore. It was funny in the same way that watching a locomotive crash into a gasoline refinery is funny.

There's a "promotion creep" phenomenon along the lines of the software industry's "feature creep". First there was video poker. Then someone comes up with Bonus Poker. I mean, bonus! That's gotta be better, right? So of course, we end up with Double Bonus Poker and Super Aces. But wait! We can get even better! We can have Double Double Bonus Poker! So now the machines we can play include Super Double Double Bonus, Triple Double Bonus Plus, and Super Aces Bonus. It's worse than shaving razor promotions. They may as well come up with Super Triple Double Bonus NOW WITH FREE WHORES Poker.

Finally, there are the local patrons. There has to be some way to remake this into a modern-day Bret Harte/Nathanael West story, something between The Outcasts of Poker Flat and The Day of the Locust, about the kind of man who comes to northern Nevada to die. There was this humongous fat guy in one of the Nugget restaurants yesterday, and we overheard him having a conversation with his dinnermate. The dude was eating this triple-decker bacon chili cheeseburger. He also ordered it with two little tubs of mayonnaise and ranch dressing. After dumping those on his burger, he asked for more so he could dip the burger and the fries. All this while telling his friend about the angioplasty that he had last month. Hot damn, people don't learn too fast in this town. Kyle and I have started to refer to him as Angioplasty Man.

More later. There's an astoundingly gay neon-lighted casino to hit.


For Part 2 of Wretched Hives of Scum and Villainy, click here.